Word Games
by Scarabbug
Summary: Word Association games really aren’t Mark’s thing. And anyway, they always seem to end up back at the same place where they started. Time, it seems, works in similar ways. [One of those TrappedInAnElevator fics. One shot.] KatMark.


**I considered calling this "Hallmark Moment". Then I realised it really… wasn't. XD. Standard disclaimers apply to this one shot. Mortal-centric and actually (surprisingly) done from a Kat Adams perspective. **

* * *

Word Games. 

She has to explain the rules to him.

Okay –Word Association. It's probably not a British thing (and it's probably not supposed to be a game, either, so much as some kind of weird, psychological test for working out how people think, but she could do with working Mark out a little at the moment, anyway) and it takes him a few tries to get the hang of it. Still, he hesitates way too much for a game that's supposed to involve _automatic_ thinking.

'Hero.' It's a pretty apt first choice of word and Mark's answer is just as predictable.

'Ace.'

'Cards.'

'Suit.'

'Dress.'

'Dance.'

'Lady.'

…Okay, she figures maybe she shouldn't really _ask_ about that one. Ladies and dresses. It _kind of_ works. Kat pushes away her bag with her foot. It's hard to get comfortable against a metal wall.

She also wishes he wouldn't keep _wincing_ like that, and she'd really rather the room were completely dark than have what little light they _did _have coming from the amulet piece around his neck. It's been doing that a lot, lately –reacting to feelings and situations. Most likely his, but she can't be sure. Actually it had been _flashing_ a little, like some piece of tacky seventies jewellery, just a few seconds before the elevator conked out with them inside of it. The light it gives off is warm and dry and seems almost _alive _as it shines in their faces. Like it's telling them "_I told you so_" and expressing amusement at their game. It creeps her out. Always has, but Mark will never part with it and she won't pretend it's never been useful. They're even working on using its energy to call on Ace and Sparx automatically – Chuck said it was possible, if they could mess around with it enough.

Damn thing could've warned them sooner.

The way _he_ keeps reacting to _it_ in response also makes her feel like something is wrong, and this is a really, really bad time for something to be wrong.

And right now, the soft humming of the amulet that neither of them can actually _hear_ but can easily imagine being there is telling her something _is_ wrong. Wonderful.

Still, Kat figures that if Mark was claustrophobic or something, he would've freaked out about the lift thing by now and he hasn't. And she doesn't mind enclosed spaces herself (except for when she's trapped in them alongside freaky cyborgs with anger issues, that is). Still she's running out of patience. They've been stuck in here for like, an hour already.

'Lord.'

'Fear.' Well. Obviously.

'Terror.'

Mark moves and Kat actually… Can you _hear_ blinking? Because if you _can_, then she totally just _heard_ him blink. 'Does… that even count?'

'Sure it does. It's a different word, right?'

'It _means_ the same thing.'

'Yeah,' Kat shuffles. 'But this is supposed to be automatic, or something. I have to say the first thing that comes to mind. Terror was the first thing.' She nudges him with an elbow. 'Unlike some people, every second thought inside of my head doesn't revolve around videogames Hollander.'

'Hey. I'm not _that_ bad,' Mark murmurs. 'I still think it's weird.'

Trust the British kid to go messing about with the American rules. But okay, she can deal.

'Okay, then, let's start this over. First word you think of or it doesn't work otherwise 'She pauses and thinks about it. '…Friend.'

'Hope.'

Oh. That's kind of not what she expected but it's… nice. 'Faith?'

'Buffy.' And now it's _Kat's_ turn to blink at him. '…What? I saw it… a few times.'

She doesn't sigh. Quite. Teenage boys and their drop dead (no pun intended) vampire hunting bimbo slayers. Looks like saving the world doesn't put you off _everything_. Still, that doesn't change the fact that she knows _nothing_ whatsoever about that show. 'Mark how am I supposed to have a follow up word to that?'

'Easy,' Mark says, and she thinks he's smiling but can't be sure. 'Vampire.'

'…Oh. Okay. Dracula.'

'Halloween.'

'Dark.'

'Night.'

'Ghosts.'

'Spirits.'

'Poltergeists.'

'Haunted.'

'House.'

'… You're doing that on purpose.'

Busted. Not that it wasn't ever obvious. Kat attempts to look as innocent as possible. 'What? It was the first word I thought of. I'm not responsible for your thought patterns mister.' If she were, she wouldn't have inserted _Buffy_ in there.

Mark says nothing, just starts over with what she guesses is the most random, impersonal word he can think of. 'Cat.'

'Dog,' Kat sighs. Back to the obvious, then, just the way he _always_ tries to act. Obvious and ordinary and totally _normal_ and all the other things he just isn't. Maybe he had been, once, but not now.

Maybe she was ordinary once too. That's actually kind of a creepy thought in and of itself. Because if she's _not_ normal anymore, then she's really not sure when and where the change _started_.

'Pet.'

'Mouse –I had one once,' she says by way of explanation. 'I called her Frisky.'

Mark keeps going. 'Trap.'

'Cage.'

'Bubble.'

'Burst.'

Mark takes a second before he answers to that one. She's fairly sure he's cheating. '…Through.'

'That's a description, I'm not sure _that_ even counts, remember?'

'_Kat_…'

Kat feels herself snigger. '_What_? I'm being serious!'

Mark looks at her. His eyes are firm and dark and way too grim for someone playing a random guessing game and Kat won't pretend that's not the slightest bit… appealing, even while it's very much worrying.

They probably should've gone with "Animal, Vegetable, Mineral."

Hey, which of those categories did the _Lightning Knights_ fall into, anyway? _'Definitely not vegetable, at least…'_

'Kat,' Mark says again evenly, and suddenly she catches on, wets her lips and takes her cue.

'Oh… Fireworks.'

'Bombs.'

'Explosions.'

'Light.'

'Heat.'

'Sun.'

'Moon.'

'Stars.'

' Hollywood.' Good old roots of California. Well, she _thinks_ she has roots in California, anyway, if you go back way before the big signed " HOLLYWOOD".

'Fame.'

'Idol.'

'Hero.' …Yeah. Back again. She wonders why she started this game if they're just going to keep ending up back at the same conclusions and everything keeps going round in circles.

'Sparx,' she says, and that's a little bit dishonest of her because it isn't, actually, the first thing she thought of. No sense in embarrassing the guy more than he already is. They've been stuck here for long enough for her to bring up a good few stories that she figures Mark would rather forget and… well, he should've been more discreet about the whole Saving-the-World thing. Sometimes she wonders how he managed to keep it a secret for as long as he did.

'Sword.'

'Pink.'

'…Oh, yeah. That's _weird_.' Mark frowns with his voice, and he's right –it _is_ weird. Kat doesn't know Sparx too well, but she really doesn't seem like a pinky kind of… person, and yet the electricity she comes out with is all pink and power. Florescent and neon, just like her.

'Yeah, it is. Are we gonna have to start _again_ here, mister?'

He smiles. Just a little and only for a second. It's not much, but it's the most she's gotten out of him all day and she _really_ can't stand it when he's sulking. She shifts a little –he has a comfortable shoulder, even when it's all seized up and tense like that. She's a tactile person, when you get down to it, which is kind of… not like him at all, but maybe they balance each other out. 'No, we're not. Weird.'

'Freak.' …First thing she can think of. Right. She can't exactly take that back, which is a shame, judging by the look on Mark's face.

'Panic.' Ah. He's learning his American colloquialisms. She's fairly sure that's _not_ the first thing he really thought of, but what the heck –_she's_ been cheating, too.

'In.'

'Flight,'

'Plane.'

'Wing.'

'Bird.'

'Crow.'

'Heather,' she blurts that one out with a laugh before she can stop herself. It's like some kind of goddamn _instinct_… Hey; he wouldn't begrudge her a little humour, right? Not now.

'Sam.'

'Friend,' Kat smiles faintly and feels just a tiny bit guilty about the Heather barb. Sam's at least _one thing _they seem to have in common (surprisingly chummy with her, for Mark's ex-girlfriend) but Mark smiles too.

'Enemy.'

'Foe.'

'Fight,'

' Battle.'

'Win.'

'Lose.'

'Failure.'

'Never,' Kat says. Ha! Rock on strength of mind. See, Mark? She _has_ been listening to Ace's speeches.

'Always.'

'Urgh. Don't be such a downer.' She gives him a light thump. He winces again. 'Oh… sorry. Amulet?'

'It's playing up. I think all the pieces are,' it's an explanation, probably all she's going to really get. 'I don't think it likes being caged up.'

He doesn't say that something's going to happen, but Kat can tell it is, anyway. He has that weird look on his face that he usually gets when Ace is calling or like when Chesborough used to be about to give him detention. They hadn't seen Chesborough for a while, though. Not since that time he was on the news. Mark had had _that_ look on his face, then.

'Yeah well, it isn't our fault. We'll be out of here soon. You can't get it to stop?'

Mark lifts the amulet and stares at it for a second. The little purple stone seems to twinkle before he slips it beneath his shirt, the glow dims a little. 'It doesn't exactly work like that. Keep going. Think it likes the talking.'

Sometimes, the things Mark comes out with these days really creep her out, but he's probably right. About the amulet, that is. She can't decide about it, herself, it's… weird.

She hesitates for a second, almost willing the lift to start moving again, which it obviously isn't going to do, but… she can hope right? Hope and faith and all of that. She feels a squeeze – Mark's hand on her shoulder. 'It's alright. Go.'

It's _not_ alright. It's not alright and she doesn't know _why_ or _how_ it isn't, it just _isn't_. But… they're still playing the game right now, and anything to calm the amulet down. She hates it when it acts up on them. It always makes _strange_ things start to happen.

'Eternity,' she says.

'Future.'

'Now.'

'Then.'

'Past.'

'Gone.'

'Back.'

'Return.'

'Home.'

'House.'

'Garden.'

'Bloody gnomes.'

Well, okay, maybe not _quite_ that strange, but…

Gnomes. Another British thing, she supposes. She'll have to ask him about that "bloody" thing one day –how did _that_ become an insult, anyway? '…It should really be just _one_ word.'

'Doesn't matter. Go with gnomes, then.'

Kat bites her lip uneasily. 'Um… elves?'

'Ears.' Kat feels a tap on one of hers. It's a weird thing for Mark to do, but she doesn't really mind. At least it's contact. If there's one thing getting locked in a lift does for you, its increase psychical proximity. Which is cool. She can go with that.

'Sharp.'

'Cold.' He _sounds_ cold when he says that.

'Ice.'

'Chill.'

'Nervous.'

'Scared'

'Fear.'

'…'

(Urgh. Not _again_. And it was her fault that time, too. these automatic games are _annoying. _Are they even allowed to have the same word more than once? Is that part of the game? She wishes she knew the rules better…

'Dead,' Mark says.

Kat shuffles again. Mark doesn't move. 'Blood.'

'Blue.'

And that… that makes no sense to her _at all_, but it must do to him. She takes her head off of his shoulder, opting _against_ the corny hallmark moment (it's not like her life is a soap opera or anything… a weird science fiction documentary like the one Chuck made them watch the other day -maybe, but _not_ a soap opera) and cheating, again, by saying "sad", instead of "eyes."

'Tear."

Darn it. She'd kind of been hoping he'd say "happy". He _hasn't_ been that an awful lot, lately. She can even tell from the amulet now, the way it reacts to him whenever he wears it. Which is all the time.

'One,' Yeah. Kat gets it. Maybe Mark didn't expect her to notice, but Kat remembers that "one tear" too, and…

Yeah. Now _that_ had been a hallmark moment. Except that hallmark moments weren't supposed to be so _sad. _

'Ace,' Mark's talking quietly again, and Kat is suddenly back at the carnival, standing in a bubble shell. And Mark is on the ground. With ace (at least they'd _thought_ it was ace, at the time), his hands out, but really not knowing what to _do _with them. it wasn't like there'd been a wound he could block or an artery he could seal or anything like that. There hadn't been any marks at all, but she still remembered how _scared_ Mark looked –more frightened than she'd been all day. (Which, for that particular day, was really saying something.)

Lady Illusion had been the first, and Kat had no idea who the _last _was going to be but she really, really hoped it would be them. Even if they really were the last altogether.

Kat bites her lip and she wants to make the next word of their little game "Talk", and maybe with "_Please_" added after it but… she can't. She's already cheated enough.

'Lightning,' she says.

'Thunder.'

'Shock.'

'Electric.'

'Lights.'

'Orchestra.'

'…The hell, Mark?' No really. _Orchestra_? Where the heck did he get _that_ from?

Mark might be blushing but it's hard to tell in the dark.

'You know… Electric Lights Orchestra. E.L.O? They're… this seventies group they're… well, dad likes them.'

'Oh-kay. You're weird, Mark.'

'Hypocrite.'

'Is that the next word?' Kat smiles.

'No, the next word is _still_ orchestra,' he says in his "_you're not getting out of it that easily_" voice.

'Fine, whatever. Instruments, then.'

'Pian—' Mark pauses and after a long moment Kat hears the soft thump of his head against the elevator wall. 'Crap… he's _everywhere_.'

'Fear?' Kat murmurs, understanding. It always seems to come back to that. An endless circle with them both trapped inside of it. The way it keeps coming round to Fear suggests it might be spiralling inwards. And she wonders, briefly, why it's _him_ he thinks of instead of Kilobyte. Maybe because fear's the worst thing of all. "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

Whoever said _that_ could sure speak for themselves, because energy draining freaky tentacles were pretty damn scary too, in her books.

How much _more_ did Fear have to crop up?

Then she remembers what Sparx had told her.

'Not,' she says. Mark doesn't know what she means for a second, then she touches a hand to where the amulet lies under his shirt and he gets it, swallows, and remembers what to say.

'…Do.'

'Right.'

'Knight.'

'Mark,' Kat says, softly. The same word she didn't want to embarrass him (or herself) with after "hero" earlier. She guesses he won't be so embarrassed by _this_ association.

And okay. they are _so_ going for Hallmark here. Heather would probably freak.

He draws a breath –which is good, could've almost sworn he'd _stopped_ just then. Maybe she should get extra points for that one.

She's about to ask this when he says: 'Target.'

_Damn you_, Hollander. 'Goal,' Kat says firmly. And then the game moves into safer territory.

'Football.'

'You mean soccer right? Come on, you _know_ the word by now.'

'Yeah. I still thought football.' Kat sighed.

'The damn_ British_.'

He doesn't argue. Which is a shame because she actually kind of wanted him to. 'Fine, fine. Rugby.'

'…You know the word.'

'What? Why's _that_ such a surprise? You think I edit a kiddie's news leaflet every week or something?'

'Try.' Mark keeps going, without answering her question.

'What? You're avoiding the… Mark, what the heck is a _try_, anyway?'

'Do you give up?'

'Ha! As _if_. Attempt.'

'Fail.'

Kat sighs. '…Mark, you really _are_ a complete pessimist. Can't you think of any _happy_ words?'

'Sure I can think of happy words. I know lots of happy words; the problem is you want me to be _automatic_. The happy words aren't the first things that come to mind. If you want happy words let me think about them before I say them.'

'Which would totally ruin the point of the game. Wonderful, thank you, Mister Hollander, for that _startling_ bit of logical brilliance. I'm sure you'll get into the mathematics triathlon with _that_ one.'

Bickering is better than the word game, she thinks for a few, short moments. It means they're talking again, and he's using actual _facial_ expressions and she can almost ignore the amulet glimmering underneath his shirt in that way that really creeps her out.

'Okay, okay, fine. I'll give you happy. He takes a moment, thinking. '…Flowers.'

'A distinctively absent anniversary present.'

'Oh _now_ who's being a pessimist. And _that_ was five words.'

'Okay, then. Anniversary.'

'Twenty fifth of September, 2003,' Mark says.

Kat doesn't ask.

She doesn't _have_ to ask. Well, at least they're back to one word descriptions. Just like the rules of the game say. '…Today.'

'Actually in just under four hour's time,' Mark says. 'Happened just before eight oh clock. I think I thought the computer was trying to electrocute me… in retrospect it probably would've, but all that power went somewhere else instead. It went into Ace and…' he swallows. 'Weird thing to remember, I know, but…'

The night computer characters came out of your videogame and turned your life into as circus performance. Yeah. That's a _weird_ thing to remember alright. And at least now Kat knows why he's been so infuriatingly quiet. 'And it's still going on.'

'Yeah. It's still going on. And getting more complicated every day.'

They're quiet again, for a few minutes after that, and just when Kat starts thinking that maybe she should suggest another word, he speaks up. 'You know I always used to wish that everything would be over by now. That everything would be back to normal,' Mark says. 'And the really strange thing? Is that they _are_.'

Kat thinks about Ace and Sparx, who are currently probably down at the carnival, making a mess of the just-newly-rebuilt Ferris wheel that got ripped apart in their last tussle with Giant George. Or else playing ping pong at going-on two-hundred miles per hour in the Thunder Tower. Or looking for amulet pieces in some crazy place, like… oh, she doesn't know… Mark's back yard, or something, blowing up the garden gnomes.

She tries very hard, for a very long moment, to think of all that as being _normal._ She fails miserably. '…They're… normal, to you?'

'Yeah. They are. I mean define normal, anyway. They're _my_ normal. They're just… I can't imagine them not being there. I can't think of a time when they weren't. And then today happened and I realised it's only been two years.'

Ad that's what has been bugging him ever since she first saw him this morning. Kat wants to groan at the obviousness of it all. Typical Mark, making something out of nothing and nothing out of everything.

'And what about _that_ thing, Mark? Is _that_ normal now, too?'

Mark looks down at the spot where she's pointing on his shirt – or rather at the amulet, just underneath it, a soft, purple, glowing shape on the inside of his clothing just about where his heart should be.

'No, that's just annoying.'

'I'm with you there.' Kat grins and the amulet's light almost seems to flicker, like a dying candle or something else melodramatic like that. Then it died down to such a dim level she can barely make out its outline as, and what she _can_ see is probably just afterimage. The room seems suddenly darker than before and Mark's eyes almost seem to have changed colour, because of the after-echo of the amulet's shine. 'So then… the next word: Normal.'

'End-of-the-World as we know it,' Mark says, blankly.

Kat gives him a small thump in the shoulder. '_That's_ your new definition of normal, huh? And once again you cross the word limit.'

'Oh, whatever, so I'm not that good at this ga—'

Kat kisses him.

Which does its job. He shuts up, albeit more out of surprise than anything else. You'd think he'd be _used_ to this by now.

Funny, all that time stuck in here that they'd been quiet, she'd been willing him to talk, and now, she wants him to stop. And to stop having to look at that amulet whenever she tries to look at his face. This works for that. This works perfectly.

When the lift suddenly jolts and the lights come back on overhead, Kat pretends not to notice.

* * *

It's a sight Heather Hoff's really could've gone without seeing just before her swimming class. Or at any time, for that matter.

Hollander and Adams. Kissing. In an elevator. In the Sports Centre she could've sworn was safely free of all members of her High School (and what the hell are they doing here, exactly, asides from the totally obvious?) And kissing really _badly_ for that matter. It took them three attempts to get their _noses_ out of the way (which is just _ridiculous _for a "long term" couple, or a _short term_ one, for that matter) before they even noticed she was there. Actually she has her vague suspicions that Kat _knows_ the whole time.

A scathing reply is probably unwarranted but –heck, this is a public gym, if they want to make out they can go round the _back_. She's not even going to _ask_ what the two of them are even _doing_ here.

'Yeah… you _might_ want to put him down, Adams. You don't know where he's been.'

Well, _that_ stops them. And it gets them stood up rather quickly too. Really, she hasn't seen Adams bolt to her feet so fast since the day mark dropped her during that Field Trip trust-building-exercise. She guesses Kat _didn't_ know she was there after all.

'Heather,' Mark's voice is so dry a sand-dwelling lizard would get along just fine with him.

'Yeah. Me. Go figure, I'm actually visiting _my own_ _Gym. _Well, that was just what I needed to see, thanks Adams. The perfect visual for a swim session. Now I really _hope_ you're getting out now because I—'

'In a lift.' Mark interrupts.

Heather feels her eyebrows rising entirely of their own accord. 'Where we've been, I mean,' Mark said, in what she supposes is elaboration. 'In there.'

Heather bites the inside of her cheek, and it's like sarcasm is damn near _instinctual_ around him. '…Really?'

'Yeah. For going on three hours, actually. It broke. There was no service and the alarm was out, so we just had to wait until they fixed it and…'

'And you got bored, apparently.' That's… actually an entirely _believable_ scenario, considering that this is Hollander talking. Heather stays still for another long moment while Kat reacquaints herself with the floor. Mark, meanwhile, keeps looking at Heather. '…And _that's_ as far as you got?'

Mark's face turns about two shades deeper red than Kat's does. 'Oh… Shut _up_, Heather.'

Heather smirks. 'So, anyway, what's the occasion? Or do you make out in the lift regularly?'

The two of them exchange a glance, and maybe they know something Heather doesn't, because they look back at her after a moment and both say, at exactly the same time. 'The End of the World.'

Its official: the freaks belong together.

And Heather just quirks a brow derisively and waits for them to get out of the doorway so she can get _in_ there and get to her class already before her hourly-card runs out. Kat should really straighten that _hat _of hers. Heather can't believe she still _wears_ that old thing. The style went out of fashion… what? Two years ago?

It must be one of _those_ days, or something, when Adams just feels like forgetting to care what people catch her doing and where.

And what's with Hollander and the flashing jewellery, anyway? Maybe Adam's is rubbing off on him, or something. She wouldn't be surprised, the way they were virtually _latched together_.

Heather only ponders on that for a couple of seconds, before she steps into the lift, and waits for the doors to slide shut behind her.

_Fin. _

* * *

**It's utterly pointless but it _was _so much fun to write, this one . Reviews and concrit are appreciated. **


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